Five Traits
by ionizable
Summary: She's bullheaded, elegant, leggy, haughty, and a busybody. As it turns out, that's why he likes her.


**_1. bullheadedness_**

It's been almost 16 years since the day he first met her, but his memories of that day remain as clear as ever.

He'd been playing with Luke, the two of them squatting on the ground, completely engrossed in the simple game. Luke had lost again, and had kicked away the marbles they'd been trying to collect while the ball bounced. Temper flaring, Luke had stomped away, leaving him to search out the marbles before going after and consoling Luke.

He'd been reaching for the last marble when a small foot came down on it. Looking up, he only barely had time to register white frills and a puffy blue skirt before the offending foot lifted from the marble to kick him in the arm.

Shocked, he'd reeled back, then angrily demanded what her problem was.

She'd sniffed, then told him that he would do better to treat his princess with more respect.

He soon recognized the small and obnoxious, yet impeccably groomed, girl to be Princess Natalia. Biting back a retort, he apologized and asked, more politely, why she had granted him the honour of being able to experience a Royal Kick.

She had smoothed down her skirt and informed him that her nannies had always told her to be wary of strange boys trying to look up her dress.

In control of his composure now, he drily responded that he meant no offense and just wanted the marble that was back under her foot now.

With a sparkle in her eye that he didn't like the look of, she replied that she'd return it to him... if he did her a favour. Or two. Or maybe even three.

He heard Luke calling his name impatiently, probably wondering why he hadn't already returned. Thankful for an excuse to escape her presence, he hurriedly straightened and made to escape, figuring one errant marble wouldn't cause much damage.

When he felt her hand close around his arm, he tensed up and shook her off violently before fleeing.

Left behind, she frowned. Picking up the marble, she gritted her teeth and vowed that the servant boy who fled from her would rue this day the next time she saw him.

He did, in fact, and not just the next time he saw her, but nearly every time he saw her till they were far into their teens.

* * *

_**2. elegance**_

Despite his fear of her, he found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye every time she visited Luke. He reasoned that it was to protect himself from her sudden, and more frequent than he'd have liked, advances.

It was because of his quiet observation that he was able to notice the elegant way she would carry herself when adults were about, and the speed with which she was able to drop the act when they left. Several times she noticed him watching her, and instead of being worried, she would playfully stick her tongue out at him.

But even these immature acts didn't take away from her innate grace. Despite not caring what he thought of her, and despite her contempt of him ever since the first day they'd met, she knew where the line of propriety was drawn and made sure to never provoke him too much. Even as she bullied him, even as she ordered him about, she maintained her regality and poise, no matter how undignified her language and expressions became.

As they grew older, however, her teasing came to a gradual halt, and his reluctance to be in her vicinity faded. When she was 17, he suddenly noticed how it had turned around; formality became the rule and immaturity the exception.

It was then that he began to see her as a girl.

* * *

_**3. leggy**_

During their travels, she found her eyes increasingly straying to his... walk. It didn't help when they all walked so much faster than her, because she was left trailing them and watching their backs and legs and... everything else. She wasn't much interested in any of their... legs, though, except for his.

He had an interesting gait. A sort of balanced, confident but not overbearing, straightforward manner. His legs were long and straight, never kicking out to the side unlike Ion sometimes. His hips were narrow and also stayed straight as he walked, unlike Anise and Tear who swayed with feminity, but wasn't as stiff as Jade nor as lackadaisical as Luke. And as for his rear...

It was enough that she was analysing his legs, she sighed, but then she had to go and notice how his clothes fit.

After getting used to travelling, however, she noticed her pace increasing, so that she rarely found herself hanging back at the end of the group anymore. Or maybe he was slowing down to avoid close proximity to her? Surprisingly, the thought stung. This spurred her to walk faster, getting farther away from him. But just because she couldn't see his legs didn't mean she wasn't thinking about them from time to time.

Amusingly, he was now entertaining similar thoughts.

* * *

_**4. busybody**_

Shortly after the disappearance of both Asch and Luke, she retreated to her rooms for nearly a month and made next to no contact with anyone who was not a servant or her father. Likewise, he buried himself in studying fontech and refused to see anyone for several weeks.

The exception was Noelle, who frequently visited him on her way between Belkend and Keterburg as a liaison. Fontech appreciation was not lost on Noelle, but his behaviour was worrying given that he had appeared to be flippant when they had said their farewells to Luke. Unable to lock Noelle out, he became resigned to his less-than-solitude.

By the sixth week, Noelle was distraught and had sent a message to Emperor Peony, requesting Jade visit. Regretfully, the Emperor wrote, Jade was engaged in several peace talks at various villages settled at the Kimlasca-Malkuth border and would be unable to visit the newly-named Duke Gardios. However, he had forwarded the message to King Ingobert, as his daughter seemed to be suffering from the same withdrawal.

Within a day, she had been packed into a carriage against her will and was on her way to his house. During the trip there, she alternated between sulking petulantly and wondering if he'd missed her.

Upon her arrival, having settled on a positive mood and looking forward to seeing him, she frowned to see Noelle greeting her and leading her around his house as if it wasn't the House of Gardios and instead the House of Gardios and Noelle. Unable to explain her suddenly dampened mood, she chalked it up to his rudeness at not personally greeting her.

The instant she stepped into his room, she could tell there was something very wrong with him. He was not one to remain seated when reluctantly welcoming a guest. He was not one to allow his surroundings to become infested with filth and squalor. He was not one to let his appearance become so unkempt that she could see the tendrils of dirt on his hair from the other side of the room.

Briskly, she ordered him up and frog-marched him to the bathroom. Finally coming alive, he protested as she began to forcibly remove his clothing. Pushing her out of the bathroom, he assured her that he was quite capable of bathing on his own, thank you very much.

She scoffed, but was glad the door was now closed and he couldn't see the redness staining her cheeks. Pressing the backs of her hands to her cheeks, she told herself it was a good thing she hadn't needed to actually bathe him.

She spent the next two weeks fussing over him, glad to have something to keep her mind off her grief. The only damper she experienced was when he would retreat to his workshop with Noelle, effectively shutting her out. Furtively, she sneaked glances at his books, but gave up when her head started hurting and resigned herself to being left out of his conversations with Noelle.

On the days he did hole up in his workshop, she spent the time cooking extra large meals. Reasoning with herself that it was to keep his stamina up and not by any means a method of proving her necessity, she could always be heard chopping and dicing with unnecessary force even from the workshop.

Eventually he noticed the pattern and, in the interest of preserving his digestive system, began to frequent his workshop less often.

* * *

_**5. haughty**_

Several months following her departure from the House of Gardios, she found herself entertaining an endless stream of young noblemen. After the seventh would-be suitor compared her hair to rippling sheets of gold and her eyes to freshly pickled toads, she finally stormed into her father's private chambers and demanded to know what on earth was going on.

King Ingobert nervously gauged his daughter's emotional state, debating whether or not to tell her the pressure to secure a male heir to the throne was mounting. But from the looks of it, she already suspected. The King hoped that she was furious not at the prospect of marriage but at the fact that she hadn't been told before having suitors fobbed off onto her.

She reacted to the news with grace befitting a princess, and politely requested some time alone to prepare herself for her duties. Befuddled, her father agreed, but not without some reservations. It was unlike her to be this acquiescing.

And, of course, the King was right. Soon after, she was scribbling an angry letter to Duke Gardios, demanding that he find her a way out of this in a way that didn't jeopardize her royal dignity. Marry one of those sickening, toadying, pudgy, little... boys? She was far too good for them. She didn't care how influential they were. They didn't deserve her. None of them did. No one deserved her! She was a princess! She was _the_ princess! No one besides Emperor Peony was even remotely on the same level as her! And she wasn't quite sure he was even straight, so in short, marriage was simply out of the question!

When he received the letter, he grinned. Still the same as always, he observed. Thoughtfully, he looked at his planner and wondered how many favours he'd need to call in if he were to abandon all these Malkuth cotillions the Emperor had lined up for him. It had been a while since he'd visited Kimlasca, after all.

The day he arrived in Baticul was the day she was supposed to meet with her father's apparently favourite prospective son-in-law. By then, she was anxious, wondering why that good-for-nothing-former-manservant hadn't replied to her letter. She certainly couldn't cancel, and she had already told her father that she didn't mind the prospect of marriage.

She really didn't mind the idea. She just didn't want to get married to one of those pansies. In the past few days, she'd cooked up several schemes, all of which she had admitted had been glaringly obvious and silly, and therefore she hadn't acted on any of them, choosing to rely on the former manservant to come up with a suitable plan.

When he surprised her by being the favourite prospective son-in-law who'd been waiting to meet her, her glee could hardly be contained, since this was obviously part of his scheme to rescue her from impending doom... er, marriage. Or at least, that was until he remembered to introduce Noelle to His Majesty.

Once again, the sight of Noelle wiped the smile right off her face. A touch rudely, she inquired as to why Noelle had come along.

He looked at her, startled. He was reminded of all the occasions when she was less than polite to Noelle. As far as he knew, Noelle hadn't done anything to offend her.

Noelle smiled, having already clued in to the source of the aggression, even if the other two weren't quite aware yet. Expressing a desire to return home to Belkend, Noelle explained that travelling to Baticul first and then Belkend later was cheaper.

Oddly grim-faced, the princess turned to her father and curtly stated, in a voice that brooked no arguments, that a marriage to Duke Gardios was out of the question.

Having finally realized what was going on, Duke Gardios grinned. The King smiled as well, amused, and advised his soon-to-be son-in-law that the worst thing to do would be to let her stew in her pride at this point.

Bowing, he set off after her, finally catching up to her outside her chambers.

She glared at him, before asking what his problem was. How could he just jump in there and - and offer to take her hand? Without - without even asking her? Wasn't he supposed to have some sort of plan, to save her from marriage? He couldn't come up with anything better than _himself_? Well, Duke Gardios, as debonair as he may regard himself to be, was certainly no more worthy of the Princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear than any of the other pasty-faced courtiers!

He smiled again. Someone had told him that girls appreciated surprises.

She snorted, correctly deducing the source had been Noelle.

Leaning against the door, he asked why she was so aggressive towards Noelle.

Spluttering, she denied it, saying it was just a figment of his imagination.

He nodded, figuring it would be unwise to continue to provoke her. Leaning down so his face was right next to hers, he told her that he and Noelle were just very good friends, and anything more was just a figment of her imagination.

Incensed, she wrenched open the door, deriving a wry sort of pleasure from the way he lost his balance and tumbled into her room.

Before she could close the door on him, he scrambled further into her room, ending up sprawled on the ground.

She nudged him with her foot, demanding he leave.

He grabbed her by her very shapely ankles and looked up at her.

Gasping, she pushed her skirts down and shook his hand off. W-What happened to his gentlemanly-ness? What happened to his aversion of females?

Finally starting to get serious, he sat upright and tugged her down next to him. With a _fwump_, she sat down, billowing skirts creating an air cushion around her. He didn't let go of her wrist.

She eyed him warily, and tried to tug her wrist away. He moved in closer to her, letting her wrist go. She didn't get up.

After an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice gentle, his words hesitant.

"Even though you never tell me when you're mad, I like figuring out what I've done to make you angry and how to make it up to you."

His hands were stroking hers. Her face was bright red.

"Even though you used to boss me around mercilessly, I like spending time with you."

Letting go of her hands, he brought his up to her face. Hers fluttered nervously, finally settling on his lovely long legs.

"Even though you can't cook, I like eating your food."

Against her own will, her hands drifted up to mirror his and cupped his face.

"Even though... no, because _you're_ a girl, I like being close to _y_-"

He was silenced by her mouth pressing full against his. Protesting, trying to finish his sentence, he made a muffled noise, but she slid her tongue into his mouth. Shocked, he was effectively silenced. He could feel her mouth curving into another one of those obnoxious smirks that always came about when she got her bullheaded way, and decided he quite liked her bullheadedness, along with her elegance and legginess and busybody-ish tendencies. But most of all, he liked her haughtiness, if only because he could read right through it so often.

As if she could follow his train of thought and was duly offended, she abruptly broke the kiss, stood up, and briskly smoothed her skirts. Daintily making her way over to the door, she airily commanded him to vacate her chambers, then exited.

Still a bit shellshocked, he sat there for quite some time, before realizing that she had essentially agreed to the proposal, even if she might not agree. Yet.

* * *

A/N: i posted this a couple weeks ago at my livejournal, idly opened it up this morning, and decided that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to post it here since reading it doesn't make me want to hide under the table and never come out. yes, i have been alerted to the fact that my sentences tend to get rambly, but i'm always open to hearing that (plus more) over and over again! after all, there's no such thing as too little concrit! :)


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